Fathers and Sons
by goldengreaser
Summary: Love Never Dies/Manhatten/Kay Erik could never have dreamed of such a thing.


**Disclaimer- I do not own Phantom, or Love Never Dies**

From his chair Erik leaned forward, hands under chin. He gazed at the boy, sleeping in the old bed. The boy whimpered in his sleep. Erik was at a loss as of what to do. He had rarely dealt with children at the best of times and this…. How could he hope to cope when his own heart; if he even had one, felt so broken?

The moonlight illuminated the child's face and the tears were visible. Erik reached out a hand then quickly pulled it back. _"Christine…..Oh my Christine….my angel…."_ Erik closed his eyes and let out a soft sigh. The silence in his head was deafening. The music was over now, dead with Christine.

The boy let out a soft whimper. "Mother….Mother… no…" Erik found himself feeling sympathy for the boy, an emotion that was rather new to him.

Erik reached out a hand as if to comfort the but quickly pulled away. "My boy, my poor Gustave." He drew his hand forward once more and grazed the boy's cheek gently. Gustave sniffled. And once more Erik felt as if his heart was breaking.

The boy was beautiful, an angel from his angel. Surely nothing so lovely could have come from him alone. _"Christine….." _To think he would never hear her beautiful soprano voice in her ears again, never feel her gentle touch. Such a tragedy could not find words of closure.

The boy eyes popped open. Erik withdrew his hand. Gustave blinked. He looked upon the masked man's face. "It wasn't a dream was it?"

Erik frowned, his voice low. "No child; I am afraid not."

"Mother is dead then?"

"I am afraid so child."

Gustave turned his head away and began to cry. He sniffled. "Father said men do not cry…Father said…."Gustave let out a wail. "But he is not even my father…."

Erik bit his lip. The hatred for De Chagny rose up in his chest, to tell his son such things, but then it fell once more. For Gustave's sake he would not speak ill of the Viscount.

"No child, he is not." Gustave sniffled. _"To lose one's mother and father in the same day…"_

The boy turned around to look at him. "Are you my father then, mother…" he frowned.

Erik simply nodded. _"Yes child I am your father."_

"If you would prefer dear boy that I should contact the Viscount. I am sure…"

Gustave shook his head. _"How could the child ever want to stay with his father, the demon. Am I not the reason he has lost all he held dear. Was it not my carelessness that caused us our dear Christine…"_

"Please…." The boy seemed to be searching for the right words. "Please Papa. I would like very much to stay with you."

"_Papa, a word I never hoped to hear. And yet… clever child to differentiate between us."_

Erik tired his best to smile, an action so rarely used on his part. "And so you shall child."

Gustave looked down at the covers. "What is to become of mother?"

Erik cast his eyes downward. If Erik had much to say in the ways of burial his beloved angel should be preserved and inlaid _in_ a glass coffin embroidered and inlaid with the finest jewels but as such he did not think such a thing proper. Christine would not wish to be on display.

"What do you believe his best child?"

Gustave shut his eyes tight trying to draw back in the tears. "She… she would like to be near grandfather, I think."

"Then so she shall." A sence of dread ate at Erik but he did not dare tell his son of the dangers Paris held for him.

Gustave was silent for a moment more and then "What about us Papa. Where shall we go?"

Erik thought a moment. In truth he did not know. He gave the boy a weak smile. "We shall cross that river when it comes dear child."

"Oh."

"You must be tired boy. It would perhaps be best if you were to rest. The weary mind plagues those who do not allow it to do so."

"Will you sing to me papa? Mother…" he sniffled again. "… mother always sang me to sleep." And Erik could deny the child nothing.

He searched his long memory for a sweet song. He closed his eyes and the music filled his once silent head. "Lay lalaei gole shabnam. Ashket mibare nam nam. Khabet mibare kam kam. Lay ye dam aroom nadari. Chera to bigharari. Cheshm roo ham nemizari. Bekhab azizam."

Gustave yawned. "What does it mean Papa?" And Eric's memories overtook him. He recalled the last time he had song this lullaby, oh so many years ago, to the only other child he could say he had any experience with, whom he had loved.

_The boy sighed, his dark unseeing eyes so full of life. "Papa is that you?"_

"_No Reza."_

_The tiny child smiled warmly. "Erik." He coughed. Erik closed his eyes. He knew this must be done for the child's sake. Erik was no stranger to murder but to take the life of a child…. What kind of devil did that make him? _

_Reza let out a gasp and Erik knew he must do this. For who was he to leave the innocent child to suffer? To murder was a sin but surely to allow the innocent to suffer was as well. _

"_Hello Reza."_

"_I have missed you. Father said you might come soon."_

"_I have missed you as well child." And Erik could not deny it. It was not in his nature to form attachments and yet the small child had won him over. The child who loved him no questions asked. Nobody had loved him before. _

"_Did you bring me a treat?" Erik looked around the room. Marvelous toys and trinkets, all his doing. _

_He was silent for a moment. The task must be completed. The thought ate at Erik. Perhaps it was the first time he ever felt remorse for a kill but what must be done must be done. 'Yes child, I have brought you a treat."_

_Reza's smile lit up the dim room. Erik made his way to the bed. "I have brought you a drink dear child, it is a sweat juice. It will give you grand dreams."_

_The boy smiled even more. Erik sat on the edge of his bed. "Here child, drink this." Reza took a swallow and choked. Erik patted his back gently."'Just keep drinking child."_

_When Reza had finished he yawned. "Will you sing for me Erik. I'm so sleepy." A child's final wish…. For all that he loved the child he could not deny him. _

"_As you wish…." Eric's light and angelic voice filled the room. "__Lay lalaei gole shabnam. Ashket mibare nam nam. Khabet mibare kam kam. Lay ye dam aroom nadari. Chera to bigharari. Cheshm roo ham nemizari. Bekhab azizam._

_And before the hour was up the child was dead. His face set in a peaceful smile. Erik wasted words nor tears and brought the child into the waiting arms of his father._

Erik shook of the memories. He gazed at his son already asleep. "It means for you to sleep well child." He gazed at the son. Yes it had been a long time since Erik had dealt with a child but he knew that he must. If he was to say he loved Christine at all he must. For hadn't she given him the boy to his care; was he not the very symbol of their love, their passion?

For both their sakes he would do his best. He would try. Every time he had ever loved it seemed those he held dear were stolen from him Sasha, Reza, Christine, even, even the Girys who he could not have fathomed he actually cared for. Not this time. Gustave would be safe, happy. He would want for nothing least of all love.

**The Lullaby translates as this- ****Luy Lullaby dew tears drop down like drizzling rain. You will fall asleep slowly. Luy you don't feel comfort (tranquility) momentarily. Why are you restless? why) don't you sleep? Sleep my dear (darling) Your dream (sleep) is beautiful (nice)I adore your eyes which are half-open. Your dream (sleep) is beautiful (nice)**

**I do not own it either. **


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